A Twisted Path
by Epsilon Scorpii
Summary: Harry thought he would never want to have anything to do with the Dursleys. Best thing was, the feeling was mutual. But when Dudley starts getting involved in gang fights and drugs during the summer... it's up to Harry to drag his cousin out of it, onto the run. Set after the Sixth Book, when Harry returns to Privet Drive for the last time...
1. Chapter 1: Blackmail

**A Twisted Path**

A/N: Hello! Here's a new story from me. I know, I know, I really ought to finish the two I have on my hands, but I really couldn't resist, this one was tempting my inspiration! So here goes, I hope you guys enjoy it! Please leave me a comment later! :D

_Summary: _Harry thought he would never want to have anything to do with the Dursleys. Best thing was, the feeling was mutual. But when Dudley starts getting involved in gang fights and drugs during the summer... it's up to Harry to drag his cousin out of it, onto the run. Set after the Sixth Book, when Harry returns to Privet Drive for the last time...

* * *

**Chapter One, Blackmail**

The car thundered down the lane at high speed, scenery whizzing past the windows in a blur. Only flashes of colours could be seen from inside the passenger seat window, but Harry didn't seem to mind. His gaze strayed out of the window, not seeing the grey pavements and gravel roads vanishing into a distant blur, but just, seemingly emptiness.

Behind them, a car honked loudly.

Uncle Vernon swore and made a rude gesture at the driver, before pressing down even harder on the accelerator.

Raindrops had started to fall by now, thick and fast, and mist was starting to blur the windscreen and the side- mirrors as well. Uncle Vernon swore again.

"What's fog doing here in the bloody middle of summer!" Vernon said aloud to no one particular, thumping his fist angrily on the steering wheel. Having the trouble to drive and pick up Harry from what he deemed a non- existent Platform was souring his temper, not to mention the rain was just making everything worse. His boots were soaked, through.

Harry didn't reply, though he knew perfectly well why. Dementors were swarming around, here in London, free of the Ministry's control. Voldemort was behind it, all over again, and didn't it just seem like there was no winning this time? Harry felt completely and utterly hopeless; a heavy weight pressing down on his heart.

He had, once, foolishly thought it might actually be possible. That he, a mere boy could defeat the Darkest Lord of all time. Only when his mentor, the only one he could rely upon to guide and teach him the way to victory, was gone- defeated again, by the hands of an enemy- did he realize how hopeless a case it had been, from the very start. He shouldn't have began this journey, this fight against the Dark Lord... how many had been sacrificed, for this seemingly aimless course?

His parents. Cedric. Sirius. Dumbledore.

But what had they achieved?

Ten minutes ticked past; in a haze of colour and confusion... he did not have an answer.

"BOY! Get down from the car!"

Harry raised his eyes slightly; he met Vernon's wide, angry, bulging ones... they were already in Privet Drive. Lowering his gaze, he opened the car door and started the tiring process of dragging out his trunk.

He arrived at the familiar wooden door, his hair still slightly damp from the rain- his tired hands still tugging at his stubborn trunk. He walked up the steps pushed his luggage in through the door, before entering himself.

"Back from the freak school?"

Barely had his feet crossed the threshold when the familiar taunting voice sounded again. He was tired; he didn't want to have anything to do with the Dursleys just yet. Not now. Not when everything in the world seemed hazy, confusing- he couldn't think straight. He lifted his emerald eyes to meet the speaker's, before he stopped.

Dudley... was different. Physically. Still plump, but not quite so- only slightly. Which was alarming. Where his cousin had five chins, now he had two. And Dudley's shirt was _hanging _off his frame.

"Dudders has worked out this summer, together with his friends," Petunia gushed proudly, in answer to his unasked question. "Isn't he such a handsome boy now, with his muscular body build?"

Harry looked away, managing to refrain from rolling his eyes.

"I'm completely in awe," he returned.

He reached down to lift his trunk, struggling to ascend the stairs to the confinements of his room, where he slammed the door shut and lay down on his bed.

* * *

The next afternoon found Harry cleaning Uncle Vernon's garage, a muddy cloth in hand, the damp chilly fog still clinging about his clothes. It didn't feel like summer; indeed, it felt as though it were nearing winter... but Harry didn't mind. He didn't care, really. It could seem as though the world were too, mourning for the loss of its greatest wizard in history.

"BOY!"

Harry glanced up to see Uncle Vernon stomping over, his face livid with purple fury. Wondering what had got into his uncle _this _time, he stood up to face Uncle Vernon.

Upon approaching his nephew, however, Uncle Vernon drew back his fist and punched Harry in his face.

Harry reeled back in shock, unable to process what was happening. His eyes snapped towards his uncle, his face stinging in pain.

Vernon's mouth was pulled into a thin, grim line. "You are coming with me," he growled menacingly, before grabbing Harry by the scruff of his neck and pulling him roughly forwards. It didn't have much of the desired painful effect, though, as Harry had grown a lot taller over the last year, and was almost taller than his uncle, which made him harder to grab.

Still, Harry allowed himself to be dragged out of the garage, before Uncle Vernon reached the door and pushed Harry in, violently. The younger of the pair stumbled slightly, but did not fall.

Harry glanced up to look at his uncle, who was breathing heavily. Moments passed in silence, before Harry's anger got the better of him. "What have I done now?" he snapped, his emerald eyes narrowing at his uncle.

"You filthy brat, you dare insult me with more of your lies!" shouted Vernon furiously, reaching out as though to hit Harry again. Out of pure instinct, Harry ducked out of the way, which caused Uncle Vernon to lose his temper and reach for the nearest object available- Petunia's vase.

"What-" began Harry, before he was forced to duck out of the way as the vase came somersaulting in the air towards him. Deciding he wouldn't risk his head just to catch it, Harry swerved out of the way, and the vase went crashing onto the floor, smashing promptly into a thousand pieces where he had been standing a few seconds ago.

"_What the hell was that about?" _Harry shouted back angrily, bewildered, and feeling a slight stir of fear in him. He had never seen his uncle this violent before- shouts, slaps, a few kicks- fine, but throwing _Petunia's _things about?

"Give it back," snarled Uncle Vernon, a dangerous growl that made a shiver run up Harry's spine.

"Give what back?! If you're going to confront me about it, at least do both of us a favour and spit out the problem!" Harry shot back, his mind racing through possibilites, but drawing a complete blank. Uncle Vernon advanced again, and Harry was forced to sidestep to avoid the sharp pieces of broken vase on the floor.

"_Hand- over- my- money," _growled Vernon, his eyes now red, his face turning a scary shade of _white. _Harry backed away, slowly, his mind still reeling. Money?

"What money?!" he demanded, voicing his own thoughts. "I haven't taken a _penny _from you since I-"

Uncle Vernon growled, or roared- Harry wasn't sure which was it. He lunged forwards to grab Harry's neck, but the Seeker ducked under his uncle's arm and hopped backwards, before hissing in pain. A crimson stain was now spreading over the floor, from the wound where a shard had stabbed his foot.

"_I KNOW YOU STOLE IT!" _Uncle Vernon shouted loudly, days of caring what neighbors thought about him long forgotten at the prospect of Harry stealing his money. "You will give it back, boy- or I shall kill you with my _bare hands."_

There seemed to be a mad gleam in Uncle Vernon's eyes as he said that, which made Harry uncertain whether his uncle would really carry out his promise.

"Three hundred pound notes," tutted a different voice, suddenly, at the doorway. Harry whipped around to look at his cousin Dudley, who was watching him with a bemused expression. Harry couldn't help but notice how _unnaturally _un- fat Dudley was now. "That really is a lot of money, Harry... give it back."

Vernon looked up at the sight of his son entering the house. "How did you know, son?" he said, pointing at Harry as he glanced up at Dudley.

Dudley's eyes gleamed. "'Cause I _saw _him pocket those notes yesterday," he said in a smug voice, smiling as he did so. "Wondered where he got it."

If possible, Vernon got even angrier, his veins on his forehead throbbing so madly Harry was surprised they hadn't burst yet. Harry's eyes snapped to Dudley's smug smile, his sudden slight figure... the dark circles under his eyes...

There was no way he could win this, nor prove anything, he knew. Not when Dudley was giving supposed evidence, when Uncle Vernon had already suspected Harry of stealing money.

"I swear, I haven't taken anything," Harry said quietly, though he was looking straight at Dudley. "I only returned from school yesterday. But if you must insist-" he said, in a louder voice this time to cut across Uncle Vernon- "I shall give you your three hundred pounds... on the condition you bring me straight to London tomorrow. I need to get my money and convert them into Muggle cash at Grin-... the wizard bank."

The last two words did nothing to soothe Uncle Vernon's fraying temper.

"How dare you!" Vernon yelled at him, seizing another ornament on the spot to hurl, "You insolent little _brat, _do you think by stealing my money you'll get to blackmail me into giving you _another _drive to what's this-"

"Fine! _Four hundred pounds! _Whatever you like," hissed Harry, angrily, his magic starting to bubble dangerously despite his self- control. Uncle Vernon started back, so did Dudley, as all of a sudden, Harry's eyes seemed to be a darker shade from his usual emerald.

He didn't think he could hold back his instinctual magic anymore; it seemed to be bursting out of him; he knew, if he lost his temper, he would be causing a great deal of accidental magic too. At this thought, Harry promptly turned to move towards the door, but Uncle Vernon spoke up again, loudly.

"I _know _you stole my money, boy- don't think you sound so convincing just because you offered compensation!"

Harry merely ignored him and walked out through the front door, only to see a white- faced Aunt Petunia staring at him, her eyes wide.

* * *

Harry lay on his bed as he inspected his still- bleeding foot. A side of his face still stung from the blow, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

His eyes drifted automatically to Hedwig's cage, but it was empty- as it had been since he let her out yesterday night for a little fly. For some reason, she had not returned.

Harry stared out of his small prison hole blankly, allowing the cool mist to enter through his window, swirling around his room. He watched as the bright sky slowly began to darken. As twilight faded into the background, he was still staring out of his window, his eyes staring yet unseeing, into space. His thoughts were a jumble, drifting from Uncle Vernon, to Dudley, to Dumbledore's falling figure, Snape's outstretched wand, Voldemort's snake- like features, looming in, closer and closer...

_Thud. Thud, thud THUD!_

Harry's bedroom door vibrated so violently he thought it might fly off its hinges. Thinking that it must be Uncle Vernon, he bounded off his bed to open it... only to pause slightly at the doorway, and glance back at his battered alarm clock.

It was already twelve o' clock, midnight. Didn't Uncle Vernon usually sleep at eleven?

_THUD!_

"Open up!" growled a voice outside, in a slight imitation of Uncle Vernon's.

Harry sighed and leaned against the door, unrelenting. "What do you want, Dudley?"

"I want to talk to you," his cousin replied.

Harry immediately grew wary. "You're doing that right now."

Dudley slammed his fist into Harry's door again. "Open up right now!"

"I thought you said you just wanted to talk?" Harry sniped back, immediately resolving _not _to open the door for Dudley to enter.

"I want to talk... in private," began Dudley again, his voice lower than usual.

"No one is eavesdropping, Dudley. If you want to talk, just talk- if you don't, fine," Harry said, moving to retire to his bed, before Dudley's voice suddenly grew cold, more menacing- as though it were someone else talking.

"Open the door... right now," the voice on the other side of the door growled. "I have a deal, _cousin, _and it would be of your best interests to hear me out."

Harry didn't budge, but a chill definitely crept up his spine. What was up with the Dursleys?! First Uncle Vernon, now Dudley. Quickly checking to see if his wand was in place, ready for him to seize and threaten Dudley if the need ever arose- Harry slowly walked over towards the door, and against his better judgement, yanked it open.

He came face to face with his cousin.

Now that he was up close, only did he realize just how _different _Dudley looked. His eyes were wider, and looked haunted, and _dark... _His face had suddenly grown thin, and the dark circles beneath Dudley's black eyes were even more prominent than before. Harry drew a breath, slowly, as his cousin gave him an unfamiliar lopsided smirk and walked past Harry, into the room.

For a moment, there was a pause- as they appraised each other with thinly veiled hatred- and on Harry's part, wariness, before Dudley spoke up, sneering. "I know you never stole the money," he began.

Harry's eyes flashed. "And I know you did."

Dudley grinned, but it wasn't his usual taunting one, it seemed... crueler, somehow. "Of course."

Fingers clasping his wand out of pure habit, Harry spoke, "Give it up, Dudley."

His cousin merely looked at him, and smiled, broadly. "Give up the game, cousin dear? But why do I want to do that, this is so much fun. Watching you suffer, as I get what I _need..."_

"Drugs," said Harry, loudly, abruptly, that Dudley shot up with a speed he never knew his cousin possessed, a dark glint in his eyes. But Harry was faster- he whipped out his wand and pointed it straight at Dudley, his heart beating fast at the confirmation of his words.

"Before you get any ideas, may I remind you that I can take you apart with little more than a word," Harry said coldly, forcing down an expressionless mask on his features to mask his jumble of emotions at this revelation. Dudley however, merely barked a short, harsh laugh.

"Still brandishing the stick about, Potter? I could break it with my bare hands in a second."

"And I could break all your bones with this stick in a _flash," _countered Harry, his wand still aloft. When his cousin showed no sign of moving away, Harry snapped. "Back off, Dudley. You said you just wanted to talk. I don't want to fight you."

Dudley's eyes hardened, before he finally backed away a step. "The deal," he began, instead, his eyes fixed on Harry menacingly. "I want you to withdraw all your money tomorrow, from the wizard bank all whatever you call it. This will save both of us lots of trouble in the future..."

"And why will I hand over my money to you?" Harry questioned coldly.

Dudley laughed, another harsh bark of laughter Harry had never associated with his cousin until now. "For someone bright enough to figure things out... you really need to ask this question? Let's just say I'll just steal dad's money again and frame you for doing it. Then you'll need to repay him all over again, with _compensation, _and who knows, maybe he'll beat the guts out of you in the process. So why not we play nicely, eh? You pass money directly to me. That's all."

"I'm having nothing to do with this," said Harry with a finalty in his voice. "I'm already moving out after this summer, and we won't be seeing each other ever again."

Dudley lost his smile suddenly and advanced on Harry again, who immediately lifted his wand towards Dudley for the second time that night.

"You will do as I say," said Dudley with barely hidden anger. "You will give me the money tomorrow."

"Just ask your father for some, I'm sure he'll give it to you," said Harry, narrowing his eyes.

"Too many times and it'll be suspicious, see? There are only a few excuses one can come up with," Dudley replied, still not backing down. Just then, there was a loud whistle, far below in the garden. Dudley immediately snapped up, his eyes widening slightly in recognition.

Harry's gaze immediately strayed to the window, but Dudley made no move towards it. He merely sent one final glare at Harry before moving to exit the room. "Make sure you have the money tomorrow," he added, "Or we'll make your life worse than _hell."_

Harry let his cousin step pass, his eyes lowered on the floor.

"You're killing yourself, Dudley," he said.

His cousin merely paused at the door and looked back, that alarming grin on his face once more. "Don't you worry about me, cousin dear... perhaps you should start worrying about yourself. I'm not going to die... not before you, at any rate."

And Harry could only watch, as Dudley walked out into the darkness.

**A/N: So what do you think? I hope you liked it! This is my first canon- based, not fan- based Harry Potter fanfiction, so I would really appreciate feedback. Do drop me a thought!**

**Please rate if you're lazy to review:**

**:D for awesome/ amazing!**

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**'X' for terrible.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**P.S. : Who knows when is Merlin Season Five coming out? I'm hyper excited thinking about it. Ahh! I want to know anything there is to know about the coming season! How many years have passed? Is this the last season? I've checked everywhere, but I can't find a reliable source of information...**


	2. Chapter 2: Black Shadows

Wow, thanks so much for your kind reviews! This chapter is specially dedicated to **V1cky84 **(my first reviewer! :D), **FlamingHooligan, G Wiz 13, Kimco96, G, Potter fan, rider 007, Oirasse, and Lady Dunla ,**your support really encouraged me a lot. Thanks so much!

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of J. K. Rowling's awesome magical world.

* * *

"You promised the money a week before, Dursley."

Dudley flinched slightly at the dangerous tone, shifting from one foot to another. "I know, I swear- tomorrow, I'll get-"

The tallest of the gang delivered a swift kick to Dudley's stomach, followed by a quick elbow strike on Dudley's back, winding the boy temporarily. Dudley collasped to the floor, panting and breathing heavily, his eyes watering from the pain.

"Tomorrow, tomorrow _then _tomorrow," hissed the eldest member of the gang, Cain. "Tell you what Dud, we're not idiots. You're broke."

Dudley shook his head frantically, but Cain merely sneered coldly at him. "We don't cater broke trash like you," he said. "You're not having any until you have the full payment. And if you don't get the money ready by tomorrow..."

"I swear, I will," Dudley mumbled weakly, still crouching on the ground, his hands squeezing the grass blades as though to relieve his pain.

"You'd better. Or we might just kill you by nightfall. Mike knows an organization... at least your organs will be worth some pounds, eh?" another laughed.

Cain delivered a final departing kick to Dudley's ribs, before signalling to the rest of the gang, and they left the place quietly... leaving Dudley bleeding on the grass.

xXx

**Chapter Two, Black Shadows**

Despite his initial tiredness, Harry couldn't sleep that night. His mind kept drifting back to his cousin's alarming changes, even his way of speech, his physical appearance, his facial expressions... all of it had changed, into something worse than before. And that was saying something.

That wasn't the only reason that kept Harry from sleeping; it was also due to the fact that he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. Tomorrow, presumably if Uncle Vernon drove him to London, he would be able to return his uncle the three hundred pounds Dudley stole... but what should he do about Dudley's blackmail? He knew his cousin could just easily do everything all over again, and with the repetition of the earlier drama, Harry wasn't sure if Uncle Vernon would really kill his nephew with his bare hands as promised.

Telling them that he never stole it wouldn't make the slightest difference.

If he made sure Dudley never stole it, then?

Impossible. He couldn't well be following his cousin about, that would draw more suspicion.

Would Aunt Petunia believe him?

Certainly not.

And the worst thing was, there was no one else he could appeal to for help, or even advice. Hedwig was gone, flying outside in the night sky, enjoying herself, while her master was trapped in a prison at Privet Drive, so many worries weighing down on his mind.

"Of all days, you just had to ditch me tonight, didn't you?" Harry muttered moodily at the cage, eyeing the uneaten sunflower seeds he had dropped into Hedwig's cage earlier with a pang of disappointment and loss.

He lay back in his bed again, counting the hours to dawn.

Finally, it was when his block beeped, signalling the approach of three o' clock dawn, when it suddenly hit Harry with a jolt- Dudley wasn't back yet.

Or was he? Harry wasn't sure. Directly after leaving Harry's room at twelve, Dudley had left Privet Drive quietly- Harry had heard the sound of the front door closing silently, and watched Dudley's crouching figure glance around suspicously before leaving the house alone. Then he heard the soft echoing sound of someone whistling again, then silence.

And the silence had dragged on until three hours later.

Harry was starting to feel uneasy, though he denied the thought of him being _worried. _And he didn't like the feeling one bit. Partly because he was appalled at himself for _thinking _about his cousin at all. Yet, another part of his brain was working through possibilities of what could have happened to his cousin. Was he being beaten up by his gang? Or was Dudley beating _someone else _up? Were they robbing a house? Inhaling drugs together?

Harry shuddered slightly, from the chill or foreboding thoughts, he wasn't sure. What would Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon say about this when they found out?

Harry immediately scoffed to himself. Doubtless, they would go, "_It's not possible, Diddy-dums' - _or whatever it was- _would never do such a thing. This absolutely ridiculous! How dare you make such a prepostorous accusation!-" _blah di blah di blah. After all, they were always too keen to believe the best of their child... even though Dudley once resembled a hippopotamus, was a school bully, and was now a member of a gang, and quite possibly a drug addict as well. Wonderful.

He had barely even seen his cousin for a few hours, before he had immediately hit on the right conclusion, that Dudley was inhaling drugs, but no- Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had _stayed _with Dudley throughout his entire summer and they never even noticed a thing. All Petunia knew was that her _Diddy-dumbs _had suddenly grown thin and oh- so- handsome. Ugh.

The clock hand reached three.

Still, there was no sign of Dudley.

The clock hand struck half past three.

The clock hand struck twenty minutes to four.

Eighteen minutes to four. Sixteen. A quarter...

_Click._

Harry heard the front door open.

Dudley was back.

Without quite knowing why, he felt himself relax, his thudding heart slowing into a moderate pace.

He turned around on his bed, cast a final glance out of his window for Hedwig, before turning over with a bitter sense of disappointment in his heart as he drifted to sleep.

Harry woke up early and groggy the next day, despite his previous night's extreme lack of sleep. He had a long list of uncompleted chores to work on, and getting on Uncle Vernon's bad side today was the worst thing he could possibly think of doing. Especially after the fiasco yesterday afternoon.

Sighing, Harry trudged down the staircase, rubbing his eyes tiredly in the early dawn light. Mentally going through his list of chores, Harry decided that he would start on making breakfast first. Just in case Uncle Vernon decided to go to work early today... it was Friday, after all.

Harry had just reached the bottom of the stairs when _something _at the bottom of it stirred. Harry started slightly, before his eyes widened in horror.

"_Dudley?" _he gasped.

The red stained grey figure stirred slightly on the floor, before Dudley opened one bloodshot eye and mumbled something incoherent. Harry started forwards, but Dudley immediately seized the nearest carpet and squeezed it, as though to strangle it.

"Dudley, what in the name of Merlin are you doing here?" Harry hissed, walking down the last few steps before coming to a halt before his now- panting cousin.

"N-Need it..." muttered Dudley, seemingly derilious... yet his bloodshot eyes were fixed on Harry unnervingly. Harry felt a chill run down his spine.

"Get up, Dud," he began, though he was pretty certain that his cousin wouldn't be doing that anytime soon. What had happened yesterday night? Dudley had gone out with his gang, hadn't he? Or was it as Harry predicted? Dudley had been beaten up by his own gang?

Dudley, on his part, tried to do so, but in the end he collasped back onto the carpet and began to shiver, violently. Each shudder started to become even more vigorous than the last, and Harry couldn't help but feel panic slowly claw up his throat.

"Hold on," he said, to no one in particular, before racing up the stairs, two at a time.

"_Aunt Petunia!"_

For the rest of the day, Harry felt completely disorientated. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, as Uncle Vernon hadn't gave him any new chores, and he had completed the ones leftover from yesterday, so he just lounged about in the house, completely alone, unsure of what he was to do.

He hadn't told Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon about Dudley taking drugs. He wasn't quite sure why; it just didn't occur to him.

After he had managed to get both his uncle and aunt out of their room, Aunt Petunia had rushed downstairs first, only closely followed by Uncle Vernon. Harry could still remember the eerie silence that descended as both parents came to a shocked halt as they neared the bottom of the stairs, before Petunia finally stumbled down the last steps faintly, as though in a trance.

"Duddd-dders," her voice trembled, and her whole figure seemed to shake with the effort. Uncle Vernon's eyes were widened in horror, before they automatically flicked, suspiciously, towards Harry. He remembered feeling a cold chill run up his spine at his uncle's furious look.

"Did you do this?" Uncle Vernon's voice was low, only directed at Harry. Petunia's face was white, and she fell slowly beside her son, her breathing laboured with tears. Dudley seemed barely conscious now, his hands were grasping the carpet so tightly his knuckles were white, his body was convulsing, his eyes tightly close.

Harry never realized he started back, until his arm hit the bannisters. "What-?" he said, incredulous and shocked by the sudden accusation, "I swear, I did nothing!"

Uncle Vernon said nothing, he merely walked down the last few steps and knelt down beside Dudley, calling "Son! My son!" over and over again. Both parents were holding Dudley's limp hand, tears coming down fast. Harry thought they were at least checking for Dudley's pulse, but it turned out it was nothing of that sort. They were merely in shock; stunned by the sudden occurrence of things.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that Harry was most used to the occurrence of a life crisis; he was the first to snap out of it.

"We need to call the ambulance," he said out loud.

Both parents said nothing, though Harry noticed Uncle Vernon's figure go rigid and Aunt Petunia looked up, angling her chin slightly in his direction.

"We need to call the ambulance now," Harry repeated, more urgency in his tone this time. "Dudley needs help."

The rare history occurred when the Dursleys agreed to what Harry said. Quickly, Vernon and Petunia straightened and strode towards the handset in unison- Uncle Vernon reached it first. His fingers were a blur as he dialled the number quickly, stabbing each button with his pointer, hard. He had then maintained an extraordinary composure as he quickly told their address over the phone and asked for the nearest hospital ambulance to be directed over as fast as possible. It was only when he had closed the fist on the line when Vernon's face started to regain its usual beetroot palour.

He turned around and looked Harry straight in the eye, his tendons taut in his neck.

"We'll talk about this when I get back," he promised.

Five minutes later, an ambulance had arrived, and all the Dursleys departed for the General Hospital, leaving Uncle Vernon's implied threat hanging in the air, leaving Harry utterly lost and feeling totally alone back in Privet Drive.

When the clock approached seven in the evening, the sky rapidly turning dark, Harry returned to his room.

But when his eyes fell on Hedwig's empty cage again, he closed the door and when back down the stairs.

xXx

Thirty minutes later, Harry heard a low whistle outside the garden gates. It sounded a little like an owl's hoot, and at first Harry was inclined to think of it that way- but when it was repeated again and again with higher urgency, Harry felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He recalled hearing it yesterday night, presumably when Dudley had went out to meet his gang- but at that time it sounded soft and faraway. He didn't know if it was the same whistle he was hearing.

_Hoot. Hoot..._

This time, the whistle was long and loud, unmistakable for the cry of a bird. Harry felt his hackles rise on end as the whistle grew increasingly louder.

The whistling stopped. Abruptly.

Harry glanced up; the sky was already dark. The Dursleys hadn't returned yet; they hadn't even called back. Were they returning that night at all?

_BANG!_

Harry shot up, alarmed at the sudden commotion. Darkness had long since fallen across the threshold; the faint twilight that filtered in through the windows was already fading rapidly away. He felt a wave of dizziness sweep over him as he stood. He hadn't eaten anything since yesterday night, but he wasn't hungry and he couldn't bother to eat something, not even some water.

Dark shadows were crossing the lawn. Harry felt his heart fall to the bottom of his stomach as he saw three dark figures climb nimbly over Number Four Privet Drive's gate. So much for Uncle Vernon's fences.

Harry felt his right hand reach for his wand automatically, and it was comforting to have it there, even though he knew he couldn't use it. But at least it was an assurance that he _had _something to defend himself with, in the case that his life were to be threatened.

As Harry stationed himself behind the wooden door, breathing deeply, he couldn't help but reflect on his fate. In the wizarding world, it was Death- Eaters... in the Muggle world, it was gangsters and drug addicts. Just how much luckier could he get?

"Dursley!" there was a loud shout, outside the wooden door. Just inches away from where Harry stood. Harry felt his feet lock to the ground, his muscles tensed, as though prepared for the three figures outside to force their way into the house.

Heavy blows landed on the door, and hands started to twist and jerk the knob roughly, as though trying to yank it out. "DURSLEY!"

Still, Harry remained silent. What else was he supposed to do? Open the front door and confront them? What if they decided to take on him instead, with Dudley out of the way? What if they decided to rob the house? Could Harry pass off Stunning three Muggles as an act of defense? But he didn't want a repeat of his Fifth- Year, when Dudley and him had encountered the attack of Dementors. And even then he'd been charged with underage magic. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he were to attack three Muggles instead.

There was silence, for a while, before a rough voice suddenly spoke up. "He's on the other side of the door."

Harry started backwards, his hand gripping his wand tighter than ever. How had they known?

"Tell you what Dursley," snarled the same voice, now leaning closer to talk through the keyhole, "You're opening the door right now, or we shall break it down. You can choose. Step out here quietly and no one will hear a thing, or wait in there for us to get you. Choose your option."

Both weren't pleasant options. Harry couldn't help but wish there was a third... before remembering that he _could_ choose a different course of action.

The idea of hiding around the house, hoping the gangsters wouldn't notice him was a foolish and cowardly act which he immediately dismissed. The other option would be to wait for them to smash down the front door and carry out their threat, which wouldn't be good either. Calling the police would do no good what- so- ever, as he would be long dead by the time they arrived. The only one left was... open confrontation.

And the best method to do so?

By using the element of surprise.

Vague plans flitted around his head, as his mind raced through hundreds of possibilities. Perhaps, if this had happened a little later, he could figure things out and outwit them... but time was the one thing he did not have. He would just have to improvise, and hope his actions wouldn't cost him his life, blood, bruises or broken doors. Uncle Vernon would kill him even if Dudley's gang didn't.

Without being quite sure what he was going to do next, Harry stepped closer to the door, and yanked it open in one fluid action, not pausing to draw breath. One of the gang members had been pressing his ear to the keyhole when Harry did so, and it caused said figure to fall, sprawling onto the carpet like some rag doll.

Harry couldn't help but still at the sight of the crumpled figure, who was slowly pushing himself up.

Heavens above, this was... another drug addict.

The gang member looked even worse than Dudley; he was all bruises, taut skin, protruding veins and bones. The boy- or man?- he wasn't sure, had horribly sunken cheeks and eyes, and his eyes betrayed the same kind of thirst and hunger Harry was slowly beginning to recognize.

It was then when Harry quickly remembered his plan... the display of confidence.

"What the blazes do you think you're doing here, yelling empty threats?!" Harry bellowed, pitching his voice as deep as he could, and adapting the fiercest expression he could muster. Again, Uncle Vernon was his role model. "There ain't no Dursleys here!"

"We want to speak to Dudley," spoke up the second member, Cain. His face was still hidden in the shadows, but somehow Harry knew by the authority in the man's voice, he was the ring leader. The red circle tattoo on his wrist kind of carried the point across as well.

"He's out," snapped Harry. "Not here. And he won't be for a long while, for that matter. The Dursleys are out holidaying."

Cain nodded slightly, lazily, before all of a sudden, he had crossed the threshold, and Harry was pinned to the door in a harsh, iron grip.

_Damn, that guy was fast._

"What about you, kid?" he asked softly, his breath hot against Harry's cheek. "Any cash?"

"No," Harry bit out, hoping Cain wouldn't hear his thudding heart. "I was accused of stealing money yesterday. The Dursleys have locked up all they have for fear I will attempt thievery again once they're gone."

Cain frowned. "But where are they, kid? They can't be far." He leaned in closer, his nose inches from Harry's. "I don't like lies, kid."

"Out," repeated Harry, trying to sound more annoyed than uncertain. "Didn't you hear me the first time? "

"Out where?" demanded Cain, and he drove his knuckle into Harry's abdomen in emphasis of his point, winding the younger boy temporarily. Harry's eyes watered with pain, but he pretended otherwise.

"A family trip," Harry gritted out, forcing himself to meet Cain's cold, pale blue ones. "You can come back after summer. They'll be back then."

"And _Dudley _Dursley will be safe at school," snarled Cain, his eyes boring fiercely into Harry's. "I'm not an idiot, boy… but it seems like you are. Haven't I warned you about lying to me? Perhaps not…"

"Well then perhaps you've got the wrong person to interrogate," Harry said, and with a force he never knew he had, he threw Cain off himself, shrugging his right shoulder as he did so to get more feeling back into it. "I'm not one of the Dursleys. In fact, I'm far from it. So if you have any problems with Dudley, take it to _them _in Florida."

Cain stepped back and watched Harry with a hardened gaze.

Harry merely glared back, his façade still in place. "Wish you a nice flight," he added sarcastically.

For that moment, Cain nodded, as though buying it, before he turned around to leave. But as Harry's posture visibly relaxed, he looked back and smiled, one that made Harry tense up again.

"You're a natural," Cain said, looking Harry up and down. "Care to join us?"

"Frankly, I find it warmer here," Harry replied, his eyes betraying nothing.

Dudley's gang turned around in unison, and following their leader, trooped away into the night.

When the Dursleys returned from the hospital that night- Harry was still wondering why he had lied for them.

* * *

"Boy!" the rough call outside his room brought Harry back from his musings with a bump. Shaking himself out of his stupor, Harry got up again, feeling exhaustion threatening to pull him down like a physical weight. His previous act had taken quite a lot out of his already tired self.

His feet felt like lead, but still he forced himself towards the door, before yanking the door open. For a moment, his eyes met Uncle Vernon's glaring red ones. Then Harry stepped back mutely and allowed his uncle to pass, not wanting to rise to any accusations all over again. He was too tired to deal with his uncle now, not after he had just dealt with Dudley's gang. He needed his bed…

Harry barely felt the hands close around his neck, before he realized he was pinned up against the wall in another iron grip for the second time that night. He opened his eyes wearily, his face pale, his expression clearly saying something along the lines of "What now?"

Uncle Vernon then glanced about furtively, before quickly letting go of Harry and closing the windows and door. He then rounded on his nephew all over again, his shoulders squared and eyes narrowed.

"Tell me boy," he said in what that could classify as a slow and intimidating voice. "What the _blazes _happened!"

Harry felt no trace of fear; all he felt was weariness. He looked his uncle in the eye and said, "I think you know what happened."

Vernon glared at Harry with as much ferocity as he could muster. It was then when Harry noticed that his uncle's balled fists were shaking ever so slightly.

"The doctors found out," Harry continued, looking at his uncle, gaining confirmation at the slight flinch. "You know it already… why do you ask me?"

"I want to know what happened to my son!" Uncle Vernon roared, his eyes wide and furious, spittle flying everywhere, just as Harry was used to it.

"Dudley is taking drugs," Harry said, cutting across his uncle, and their eyes met each other's challengingly, steadily. "He's involved in some gang as well, and he went out to meet them yesterday night. For some reason I don't know, they beat Dudley up."

Uncle Vernon shook his head slightly. "No," he said, his voice no longer a risen shout, which caused Harry to look up at his uncle in mild apprehension. "No, boy-" he repeated, "I want to know the truth. What _really _happened."

"This _is _the truth," snapped Harry. "I've realized it in the few hours I've stepped into this house, when you have been blind to it for the entire summer!"

"Do you think I'd really not make the connection!" hissed Uncle Vernon, stepping closer. "Every single bloody time you return from your freak school to my roof, something happens to my boy. Last summer it was the Demon thingy, and now this!"

Harry felt a surge of desperation and anger surface in him. "_Magic," _he spat the word out, gaining little satisfaction as his uncle's face whitened, "has nothing to do with this, nor have I."

"Dudley has always been a great son," Uncle Vernon said fiercely. "I refuse to believe that he'd be let astray to such a path!"

"Then that's none of my business!" said Harry angrily, his patience finally spent and snapped. "You've always been inclined to see the best of your child and worst of me the moment I came under your roof. There is nothing more I can do to remedy that fact. The only thing else I can say is that Dudley's gang will be back, looking for him- soon."

He met his uncle's gaze for the last time, before his uncle finally stepped out. Without waiting for another word, Harry slammed his room door shut, locking it.

Hedwig's cage was still empty.

* * *

That night was cold.

Harry had long since forgotten that it was supposed to be the middle of summer. There ought to be a sultry weather, the intense glare of the sun. A blast of warm, grass- scented air during the nights.

But the Dementors seemed to have affected the weather as well. Fog and mist swirled around the night, some entering through his open window, like tendrils of white smoke. Sometimes, when his eyelids grew heavy, he could almost pretend that it was his snowy owl soaring through the opening. Despite all his training for the first ten years of his life, he just couldn't get used to having loneliness as a friend.

He felt as though he'd been doing it for all eternity; counting the seconds, the minutes, as the clock hand slowly inched to the next number, then the next, then the next. He felt tired, his body a complete wreck after not eating nor drinking for the entire day, yet sleep evaded him.

If he kept this up, surely he'd look more like a drug addict than his cousin.

Dudley had been somewhat disorientated when he had returned from the hospital. The doctors said that he was fine- there were no broken bones nor major injuries, just a few scratches and bruises- as far as Harry could tell from Petunia's conversation with his uncle. Dudley had been rendered weak and derilous mainly due to exhaustion, extremely poor stamina and most importantly, the lack of drugs, which he relied upon to give his body a boost everyday.

Other than that, Harry knew nothing about his cousin's present condition, who was sleeping only a few rooms away. No one had felt it important to keep him informed.

It wasn't that he needed to know, anyway.

Harry must have drifted off a bit, under the caress of the cool night breeze, for when he next woke up, he felt something heavy land on the bed beside him. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, he turned around, before his breath froze in his throat.

"Hello Harry," smirked the same lazy, calm voice beside him.

The leader of Dudley's gang. Cain.

Harry slid off the bed as quick as possible, his hand already reaching into his pocket for his wand. Thank the heavens, it was still there in his pocket. Luckily he had never heeded Moody's constant warnings about not putting his wand in his pocket.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing here?!" he hissed, his heart thumping an irregular rhythm in his ribcage as he forced himself not to raise his wand.

The dark- haired leader did not reply; he merely smiled, his reasonably handsome features twisted into a lazy smirk. Then he raised his fingers to his lips and blew out a loud whistle, continuous and blaring.

Harry's eyes widened in recognition- the last time he had heard it, the entire gang had nearly smashed down the front door.

He just _knew _something bad was going to happen.

Without pausing for thought, Harry rushed towards the window and put his fingers to his lips like Cain did. Except that he blew short, quick whistles and kept up an irregular hooting, meaning to disrupt Cain's signal.

The next second, an elbow strike hit him hard in the stomach, followed by a fluid palm strike to the back of his neck. Harry felt the world tilt precariously, and the dark room grew even darker. He never even realized he was sinking to his knees when the gang leader held him upright by yanking his right shoulder, so tightly he thought Cain meant to rip it out.

"As I said, you have potential," the elder of the pair said, still holding Harry at arm's length, his pale blue eyes suddenly striking as they glittered. "More potential then the rest of the gang, at any rate..."

Harry wrenched himself away with a look of contempt, though the effort sent waves of nausea coursing through him. His ears were ringing- why could he hear shouts and screams? Were they in the back of his head?

Merlin. It was really happening. Someone was screaming downstairs. Pieces of broken lines and puzzles suddenly connected, causing his heart to lurch- the reason why there were cries coming downstairs. The reason why the gang leader was here, in his room-

He darted out towards the door, actually managing to yank it open before Cain's arm shot out, grabbing his elbow and twisting it. In response, Harry lashed out with a converted version of a twist- kick, but the gang leader merely stepped neatly out of the way, though it did force him to release Harry's hand.

"What do you think you're doing!" snarled Harry. "If it's just money you want-"

"I merely granted my members their wish," Cain shrugged carelessly. "And it isn't that simple anymore. We need to teach the Dursleys a lesson."

Downstairs, there was a loud crash, and Uncle Vernon shouted something. Petunia screamed.

The Dursleys?

"Vernon Dursley gave us a talk that, I'm afraid, insulted our pride," the gang leader continued. "This course of action is necessary."

"And what about me?" asked Harry, edging slowly towards the door, still facing Cain.

"I told you I detested lies, Harry," the leader said lightly. "A lesson ought to be taught to you as well, but I am willing to give you another option."

Harry ignored the last part of the sentence and focused on a single word uttered by the leader instead. "How did you know my name?" he demanded.

Cain laughed. "That's an easy question. Ask your dear cousin."

With that last word, he lunged at Harry again. But Harry reached the door first.

Harry immediately winced as his cut foot connected with solid ground, hard, as he ducked another blow from Cain and ran outside. Downstairs, chaos reigned; at least three figures in black were throwing the Dursleys' furniture about, breaking china and upturning sofas- Petunia was crying and sobbing hysterically in the corner. Vernon was roaring something, before he strode towards the handset, but one of the gang members immediately seized his hand and twisted it viciously.

Vernon roared in pain and dropped the handset, which was promptly smashed into bits of plastic and wires by another member's hammer. Harry felt his throat tighten at the scene, caught between fear, panic and desperation- once again unsure of what he was supposed to do.

"_DAD!" _

Harry felt his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach- Dudley had chosen this moment to appear.

"Get away, you idiot-" Harry began, but Cain had already reached Dudley, his hands reaching for Dudley's neck as he began to strangle the younger boy. Harry immediately caught Cain in another converted version of a back- kick - it had been ages since he last attended a junior martial arts class- but it served as a distraction for Uncle Vernon to reach them.

"_How dare you lot hurt my son!" _Vernon bellowed, his face livid, so alike to what Harry was used to see his uncle before. But this time, there seemed to be some wild animal rage in his uncle that made Uncle Vernon seize a hammer out of nowhere, and hack downwards at Cain.

Cain ducked away with unbelievable speed, and performed a perfect twist- kick to Uncle Vernon's back, causing the man to double over in pain.

It was then Harry saw a flash- a gleam of silver caught by the little moonlight that filtered into the dark house- as the gang leader slid something out of his sleeve-

"_Stupefy!" _Harry cried, a jet of red light darting out of his wand, heading towards Cain, even as a crimson stain began to spread rapidly across Uncle Vernon's back. Below, the figures in black- which ironically reminded Harry of Death- Eaters- looked up one by one, realizing their leader had fallen.

Cain slumped backwards and fell, his head hitting the bannisters as he began to tumble down the steps, unconscious.

"_Dursley attacked Cain!" _A cry, seemingly so far away, echoed numbly in Harry's ears.

He didn't know what to do; there never seemed enough time for planning. All he knew was that he couldn't stay.

But when the gangsters came charging up at them, some not even themselves for consuming too much drugs- Harry casted a last spell, a shield over them both, seized his cousin's hand and fled down the stairs, out into the night.

**A/N: Here's an extra long chapter in thanks for your support and encouragement in the last chapter! Please do tell me what you think about this. Did my writing flow well? -.- Sometimes my fingers still continue typing although by thoughts have already drifted off elsewhere...**

**Thanks so much for reading, though please do rate if you're lazy to review:**

**:D for awesome**

**'.' for lovely**

**'O' for okay and**

**'X' for terrible.**

**Thank you!  
Epsilon Scorpii**

**P.S.: What do you think of my story picture/ image? I kind of like it. :D**


	3. Chapter 3: On the Run

_My heartiest thanks to those who reviewed in the last chapter! In appreciation of your support and encouragement, Chapter 3 is dedicated to _**Oirasse, gwiz13, G, v1cky84, Kimco96, Kitty Qin, Sakura Lisel, coolchickdiv and ejm12 .** _I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of J. K. Rowling's beyond awesome magical universe.

* * *

Harry had barely made it out of the gates when he heard the distinct wail of the approaching police siren, which served to make things worse. In this din, he wouldn't be able to tell whether the Aurors had arrived to arrest him or not! Worse still, his aching arms were still supporting a barely conscious Dudley, who was yet to recover from nearly being strangled to death.

His mind was racing through numerous questions once again- most of which revolved around different courses of action he should and should not take. Pictured scenarios appeared before being wiped off his brain. And once again, Harry felt himself at a total loss of what to do.

There seemed only one last plausible action he knew he ought to apply, and that was to keep on running. At least that would get him somewhere while he paused to think. So once again, he seized his cousin's arm and began sprinting as fast as he could onwards.

"Harry Potter!"

The shrill cry, seemingly out of nowhere, stopped Harry in his tracks. Heart racing, Harry turned around, preparing to whip out his wand at any moment- before relaxing when he realized who it was.

"Mrs. Figg," he said, breathing heavily despite the short journey he had covered. They were currently hiding behind a large tree in the deserted park, where Dudley and his gang used to play Harry- Hunting in their early days.

"What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing, boy!" Mrs. Figg cried, her eyes glaring at him fiercely. "You were told to remain in the house!"

"There were gangsters," explained Harry hurriedly, but somehow nothing he said seemed to be able to cover his story in a few short sentences. How could he have forgotten?! There were Order members spying on him everday, after all!

The wail of the sirens got increasingly louder. Feeling panic rise up in him, Harry ignored the accusatory look Mrs. Figg was giving him and ditched telling his story altogether. "Look, I have no time to explain," he began, "but-"

However, Mrs. Figg interrupted him almost at once.

"I know, I saw them only just now," she snapped. "They are not Death- Eaters?"

"No," Harry confrimed. "Only Muggles... but that's not to say they don't pose a threat. They're after my cousin, and the Aurors are going to be after me as well for performing magic-"

"You _what?" _Mrs. Figg said. "Not again, Potter! Do you have any idea what you have done, Dumbledore's no longer here to-"

"_I know!" _Harry hissed sharply, feeling irritation and anger surge up in him, but he pushed his emotions away quickly. "I need to get away now."

He didn't know what else there was to say; there was too much left to explain, too little to time to do so. Hurriedly, he shouldered Dudley's limp arm and began staggering onwards. Dudley was now coughing slightly- but at least it gave the indication that he was regaining breath... or so Harry thought.

"Go back, Potter!" said Mrs. Figg again, this time swinging her bag at him to emphasise the point. Her bag connected with Harry's shoulder with a thump, and Harry felt as though a stone had hit him hard. "Go back to your cousin's house! I have already called for help, the Order ought to be already there!"

Harry glanced back at her, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the silhouette of owls, more than one, swooping around Number Four Privet Drive, the dark house he had grown up in for seventeen years.

"It's too late now," Harry said, his tone suddenly quiet. "The Ministry's probably there as well."

"No, no- Harry, come back-"

The wail of the police sirens grew, if possible, even louder, blaring and ear- splitting. Harry saw, under the dim shadows of the streetlights, a few figures in black starting out of the gates, some limping, some hunching over. He looked back, and saw Mrs. Figg's worried face, her wide- eyed gaze, her strong fingers curling around his arm in a protective grip, as though fearful that he may run away.

"I'm sorry," he said lightly.

This time, the audible _cracks _couldn't be mistaken for anything else, but the arrival of either Ministry or Order members. Either way, there was too much confusion- the Muggle police force, Order members, Ministry Aurors, gangsters and the Dursleys were all tangled in a group at Number Four Privet Drive. He needed to get away, so did Dudley.

Gently, but forcefully, Harry pried Mrs. Figg's fingers away from his arm and stepped backwards, Dudley still leaning heavily on him.

He seized his cousin's arm, tighter than before, raised his wand, and Apparated.

The last thing he saw was the unmistakable running figure from the other end of the road, Kingsley, along with two other Aurors with Ministry work robes, and the wide, fearful eyes, those imploring, outstretched hands of Arabella Figg.

There was nothing but darkness after that.

xXx

**Chapter Three, On the Run**

Apparating was never Harry's strong point.

He felt nausea bubble in him, his stomach and all his organs seizing up, the world throwing him around like a rag doll. Beside him, he could tell that Dudley wasn't faring that well either; the previously limp grip on Harry's shoulder now became harsh and painful; Harry felt as though all his bones in his shoulder blades were being crushed by that powerful grip into powder.

Merlin, he really hoped they wouldn't be Splinched...

_Crack!_

Harry's feet slammed into solid ground. The next second, he was flat on his face, his lips meeting gravel, glasses askew. Grimacing slightly, Harry pushed himself up before feeling a squash of panic when he didn't see his cousin. He couldn't have Splinched Dudley while Apparating, could he-?

"What- the- _hell _- did - you- _do?" _

Harry whirled around at the sound of that more- familiar voice, before feeling a sense of unfairness as he glanced up and saw Dudley _standing... _albeit with shaking hands. In fact, Dudley was shaking so much he had to hold on tightly to the nearest object available... which happened to be an overflowing trash can.

"Why do _you _remain standing?" Harry complained as he picked himself off the floor, grimacing as he noted the greasy foul- smelling substance clinging onto his clothes. Trust his luck to have him Apparate straight into a moulding _puddle _of rotten food.

Dudley seemed to be slowly recovering himself. He raised a hand and pointed it at Harry, speaking between pants, "What- did- you- just do?"

"Magic," replied Harry shortly, rolling his eyes. "Duh. And you might want to remove your hands from the trash can you're holding. The smell isn't exactly inviting."

Dudley looked down and stumbled backwards, looking nauseous, before his eyes rested on Harry's bedraggled form. Harry deduced his cousin must be feeling much better, for Dudley actually managed to quirk a small smirk in his direction. "It ought to smell better than you, though."

Harry shot him a glare, feeling annoyance rise to the surface above everything else. "Glad to know my service is so greatly appreciated," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He averted his gaze from his cousin and continued to look up and down the dark alley he had Apparated them into. It was the dingiest alley he could remember ever coming across. Rats and cockroaches seemed to crawl along every single nook in this place... and after the euphoria of Apparating had vanished, Harry was beginning to realize just how badly the place stank. At least this place was deserted.

"What did you just do?" snapped Dudley's voice again. "Where are we?"

"This," said Harry, "is Clemenceau Ave. And in response to your first question, I just performed a pretty advanced spell and saved your life."

Dudley didn't seem to understand this one bit; not even the last sentence. "Where, then, is this Clemen whatever Ave?" he demanded aggressively, thumping his hand against a broken down water pipe, which swayed precariously with the force of his blow.

Harry did not feel like being cooperative in the least.

"_Here," _responded Harry. Well, Dudley wasn't the only one that could be irritating.

Dudley seemed to be rapidly losing patience. He clenched his right fist and moved forwards, before immediately stumbling back in the opposite direction, clutching his head in obvious agony. Harry's eyes widened, but he didn't step forwards.

"What's your problem _now?" _he said, his annoyed tone not betraying the slightest trace of fear.

In response, his cousin merely scrambled backwards, as though it would aid him ease his pain. Then, barely a few seconds later, Dudley began to tense up, his eyes rolling back into his head, arms frail and weak once more.

"Dudley?" Harry said hesitantly, stepping forwards.

His cousin's bloodshot eyes shot open, meeting his... yet somehow, they were unfocused, unseeing. Dudley was barely holding on (once more, the overflowing trash can), his knuckles white, his whole form trembling.

"N-Need it," he mumbled, once again, incoherent.

Harry felt ice chill his spine at the not- so- foreign sight. "Not again," he muttered.

What now? He needed to move Dudley elsewhere- he couldn't remain at this site much longer. The Ministry ought to be able to track underage magic as well as Apparition- staying here would be like a fly waiting outside a trap. Could he just ditch Dudley here and move on himself? After all, it was him the Ministry wanted... they oughtn't pay much attention to Dudley sitting in the slums, derilious.

But would his cousin survive it? Looking at his convulsing form, Harry really wasn't sure. How bad was a withdrawal supposed to be? He knew it was really bad... but he had never witnessed one happening before. Was it life- threatening, or did it only _look _life- threatening? Did Dudley require medical aid? Should he attempt to get Dudley to the nearest hospital?

"Okay," Harry said aloud, speaking to himself more than to Dudley, "You can start being helpful by at least telling me what I am supposed to do with you. In a few minutes' time, wizards will be arriving to apprehend me, so I am going to make a run for it. Should I bring you along or not?"

Dudley glanced up slightly, his eyes suddenly regaining focus once more. Perhaps it was the mention of more wizards heading their way that did the trick. Harry met Dudley's gaze, barely daring to hope that Dudley had at least a reliable plan. At least, if something happened to Dudley along the way, Harry wouldn't be _completely _at fault- Dudley had agreed to come... right?

"I'll come," Dudley managed to grunt, stubbornly pushing himself up. In the process, his hands accidentally squashed a packet of rotting, maggot haunt of a sandwich, and both he and Harry winced. Harry, however, had more pressing matters on hand.

"Are you sure about this?" Harry said hesitantly. "You can barely stand... and it's me the wizards want, not you."

Dudley's eyes narrowed as he still managed to glare at Harry despite his weak condition.

"You bring me into trouble, you get me out of it." Well, something along those lines. Harry bit his lip in annoyance. Typical spoilt brat, pinning all the blame on him.

"That's hardly fair, you took up drugs yourself," Harry said irritably, but before Dudley could respond- if he could- Harry decided to save Dudley's breath for their sake, and let the argument drop.

"I'll be better later," Dudley continued in a voice fainter than his usual loud shouts. "The doctors said this... weakness, is only temporary."

"It had better be," said Harry, before seizing Dudley's arm again as they hobbled as quickly as they could down the dark alley.

He remembered apprehension and indecisiveness grip him once again at the touch of Dudley's ice- cold arm.

* * *

Harry's mind was elsewhere occupied as they travelled together down the dingy backalleys of Clemenceau Ave, Harry leading the way as usual. He had not much idea where they were heading to; but his tired feet just brought them on and on, without stopping. He remembered visiting the brighter parts of Clemenceau Ave before, during one of the rare trips Uncle Vernon had agreed to bring him on. He knew they were somewhere in West London, but that was all he knew. Harry had purposely took one a too many turns in the dark alleys to shake any possible pursuers off their trail, but it meant that they were lost as well.

Not that it really mattered, since Harry had nowhere else to go. But Dudley, on the other hand...

"Will you stop gripping my arm so hard!" demanded his cousin in his usual loud, obnoxious voice.

"Just keep your mouth shut," hissed Harry, not quite listening to what Dudley had to say. "We don't want to be overheard."

"See how you like getting pinched!" said Dudley in reply.

With that, his cousin immediately seized his upper arm and pinched his flesh, hard. Harry felt his eyes water in pain. Immediately, he shook himself free of Dudley and glared daggers at him.

"You know what, you're really the worst ungrateful brat I've ever had the misfortune to save!" he spat, massaging his arm as he did so. For the love of Merlin, he had been trying to _help. _Saved his stupid fat (okay, maybe not too fat) cousin from gangsters, performing magic to save their lives which might cost him his wand, and travelling so far to this dingy alley with said stupid cousin, even having the decency to _help _Dudley walk along the narrow alleys and his cousin had the audacity to accuse him of pinching his arm!

"You have been pinching me all day and I never complained!" shot back Dudley.

Harry felt like swearing. Loudly. The huge pressure he was under, the stench of the alleys and his empty stomach wasn't helping one tiny bit.

"You do realize I am in this huge- mess!" he said, indicating his bedraggled, stinky state of attire, "- is all thanks to you! This is entirely your fault, Dudley Dursley. _You _got involved in gangs and drugs, and got me into loads of trouble with Uncle Vernon. Fine! Then your stupid gang comes round to Privet Drive and you were not there, nor was anyone else, leaving me _alone _to face you and your stuffed gang-"

"What happened to keeping your mouth shut?" Dudley retorted, but Harry wasn't done yet. Far from it.

"- and I have to lie to their face and get on their bad side to save your sorry, stupid behind! Then what's more, in the middle of midnight for Merlin's sake, your gang leader comes jumping into my _bed _and giving me the fright of my life, and starts whistling and the next thing I know, we're under attack! Then he goes about brandishing a knife, and _you _have to appear then, of all times, and Uncle Vernon gets stabbed and I have to use my magic to save you! And because of that I'm risking expulsion, and on the run from the Ministry _and _Death- Eaters as well! Thanks a whole lot Dudley, you really make my life worth living! Why am I even doing this?!"

Harry finished his breath, his chest heaving, but the venting did not seem to do him any good. Dudley was still standing there, the alley still stank, and he was still on the run from the Ministry.

"It was just a pinch," Dudley said, somewhat sullenly.

Harry merely rolled his eyes and trudged onwards himself, leaving his cousin behind. It was then when Harry realized that the withdrawal Dudley had suffered that night had faded quickly, and he was his old self again for the moment.

He could only hope it would continue to be that way until he could return Dudley to Privet Drive.

* * *

Meanwhile, far away in the Burrow, there was a loud cry as their fireplace in the Burrow errupted in bright green flames, only to reveal a balding wizard with a long travelling cloak. He stepped onto the hearth rug, panting, as soon as the spinning stopped. Immediately, before he had even managed to settle himself into an armchair, the head of a family of eight- nine, if he counted himself- was immediately bombarded by questions.

"Where is Harry, Dad?"

"Is he alright?"

"What exactly happened?!"

Arthur raised his eyes tiredly to meet his children's anxious faces, his gaze singling out his youngest son's, knowing that he was the closest to Harry amongst the rest of them.

"The Order was held up on purpose," he said, feeling just as helpless as they were. "When we finally arrived, the Ministry was already there as well. Barely a few minutes later, the Muggle security force arrived as well... and the whole place seemed to be overturned and ransacked, by some Muggle gangsters in black. Not Death- Eaters, at any rate..."

"But Harry?" Ron asked.

Mr. Weasley merely shook his head. "I have no idea, nor have the Order. The Ministry is just as baffled as we are. He seemed to have disappeared."

"What about Harry's relatives?" asked Molly, her worry evident in her shaky voice. "Surely they ought to have some clue-"

Arthur's eyes hardened. "Apparently, as far as we are concerned, it is said that Harry's cousin Dudley Dursley was involved with said gang, who turned up to ransack the house. He was also involved with drugs, and owed the gang quite a sum of money. It seems, by the way of things, that Dudley stabbed his father in the commotion with a knife... it's appearing in the Muggle news tomorrow..."

xXx

"When- are- we- going- to - _stop?" _panted Dudley, half- jogging to keep up with Harry.

Harry wasn't half as merciful as he might have been before Dudley pinched him. "Until I deem it is safe for us to do so."

Dudley gave a none- too- soft groan, causing Harry to shoot him a glare, something that was happening more and more frequent. Well, it wasn't like Dudley had a mother to complain about it to now.

"When would then be? And where are we going?" Dudley asked, stumbling after his slight cousin, who was walking faster than usual- he suspected, on purpose.

"Shut the questions," Harry snapped, mood clearly still sour. "Just follow me unless you want the wizards to find you."

"You're a wizard too," Dudley pointed out intelligently.

Harry didn't know what he was supposed to respond to that statement. He felt so exasperated he felt like snapping at every single stupid comment Dudley made, but that was a complete waste of time and breath. In the end, he deemed that statement reasonably inoffensive and decided to let his pass instead. "Yes. Now you noticed," Harry said instead.

"Are you always this sarcastic when you're snappy?" said Dudley snidely, giving Harry the impression that his cousin didn't want to be the only one to feel miserable. Well, joy- Dudley was definitely not alone in this world.

"Are you always this observant when you're suffering from a withdrawal?" Harry shot back.

Dudley seemed to fall silent at this, possibly racking his brains for a better comeback. Harry took the opportunity to move onwards, round another corner into yet another damp alley, but blissfully with no one in it. They had come across a few gangsters and muggers in other alleys previously, but their luck held reasonably well as they were not confronted... though the sharp, lingering gazes still brought a chill down Harry's spine.

"It's getting late," Harry said at last.

"It's getting early," corrected Dudley. "It's almost dawn now."

Harry sank down to the ground beside a large, leaking pipe, sending a few mice scurrying off in the opposite direction in fright. He was too tired to care. Wearily, he closed his eyes, before cracking one open slightly as his cousin slid down opposite him, heaving a sigh of relief.

"I thought you were tired," Harry said, eyeing Dudley suspiciously. "Yet you seem more awake than me."

Dudley shrugged, and in the pale moonlight, Harry couldn't help but note all his cousin's changes over the summer again. "I usually don't sleep at this time at night."

But his face was extremely pale, and his figure was still shuddering slightly, from the chill or withdrawal, Harry wasn't sure. Blissful silence fell, and for those precious few seconds, Harry allowed his eyelids to droop, uncaring about all the worries in the world... until Dudley's voice broke the magical moment, bringing Harry back to earth with an unpleasant bump. How typical.

"You said Dad got stabbed."

Harry felt as though someone has shot him awake; his mind immediately lost all vestige of sleep at that statement. Harry angled his head slightly in Dudley's direction, yet did not meet his cousin's eyes.

"You never saw it?" he said instead.

"No," Dudley replied, and Harry noticed that his cousin wasn't looking at him either. "I was unconscious at that time."

Harry didn't know whether it was a typical Defensive- Dudley statement or whether Dudley had really been unconscious at that time. He decided that perhaps the latter was also pretty possible.

Nothing more was said after that. Dudley merely turned around and attempted to go to sleep beside the pipes, burying his head on the broken down steel structure without even a flinch. Harry wondered if Dudley was used to doing this with his gang.

Their worries continued to hang heavily in the night sky, even as streaks of pink began to appear.

**A/N: So here's chapter 3! Many thanks to those who kindly provided me with more information about Merlin Season 5 :D, I'm so excited, I can't wait for it to be out! Please tell me what you think about this chapter!**

**As usual, the rating system goes like this:**

**:D for awesome**

**'.' for lovely**

**'O' for okay**

**'X' for terrible.**

**Hope you enjoyed the read! :D**


	4. Chapter 4: Failed Attempt I

_Thank you so much to the kind reviewers who encouraged and supported me in the last chapter! This chapter is dedicated to **rider007, coolchickdiv, G, V1CKY84, ejm12, Girl Whose Name You Might Know, LadyDunla **_**and _Kimco96._ **S_eriously, Chapter 4 is all owed to you guys. :D, and I really thank you all of you for that._

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of J. K. Rowling's beyond awesome magical universe.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Failed Attempt I**

Harry awoke extremely stiff and sore the next day. His neck refused to cooperate with the rest of his body, which turned out to be a huge flaw in his limb coordination. First his arm wouldn't lift, because whenever he tried, the tendons in his neck would go painfully taut and he'd have to abandon the action altogether.

It was only after approximately one and a half minute's worth of groaning and creaking bones that Harry finally managed to pull himself together and sit upright. Almost immediately, he wished he hadn't; the stench of the back alley hit him with full force once more, so hard he actually gasped... before regretting it at once. Yesterday's run must have contributed to his muscle pains... not to mention heaving Dudley about. No wonder he felt as though a lorry had run over him!

As his eyes got used to their surroundings, Harry wiped his grimy glasses in distaste before surveying the not so nice scene before him.

He could still see a few rats scampering about not far from where he was sitting, their vicious teeth nibbling away at every single opportunity they got. Harry noted with some disdain that they had actually nibbled off the corner of his baggy hand- me- down shirt when he had been sleeping. As for Dudley, well... his cousin didn't look too good, with an unhealthy tinge of green in his white pallor, but Harry decided that it was okay since Dudley seemed to be in a deep slumber. Sleep could work wonders, right?... He only hoped that it would be sufficient to cure Dudley of his drug- craving.

The sky was still somewhat dark, so Harry deduced it was somewhere around six or seven. Glancing at Dudley's watch (he didn't own one), he found that he was correct- it was six forty five in the morning.

The wind was still bitingly cold and chilly, so Harry wrapped his jacket tighter around himself, and not for the last time, wondered what he was supposed to do. He felt like a total mess, and in a sense, he was.

Forget his bedraggled and exhausted state, he was currently on the run from Ministry Aurors and Death- Eaters alike. Not to mention his drug addict of a cousin was weighing him down. How was he supposed to return Dudley to Privet Drive, provided his cousin's home was safe once more? And what had happened to the Dursleys last night, when Harry had dragged Dudley away, on the run from Cain and the rest of the gangsters?

Harry decided that the best thing they could do was to nick a newspaper, and hope yesterday night's mess at Privet Drive would somehow make an appearance in the papers. It was a pretty huge scandal, after all. Perhaps then he would have an inkling whether it was safe to return to Privet Drive with Dudley, before resuming his life on the run by himself. Maybe he would contact Ron, and tell him what had happened... but he didn't want anyone else to be worried, on his behalf...

...he had brought enough trouble upon them, the Weasleys...

"Ow!"

Harry was rudely jerked out of his stupor at the frantic yelp. Looking around, his eyes immediately fixed on Dudley, who was trying to dislodge a rat, which was sinking its teeth stubbornly into his cousin's trouser leg. Harry noted that it was smeared with some bread crumbs, presumably from the rotting sandwiches Dudley had fell into yesterday. Despite everything, Harry had to fight the smirk off his face.

"Good morning, Dudley," he greeted pleasantly, as though it was the most common morning in the entire summer.

His cousin looked up, his eyes bloodshot, dark circles beneath them, his face gaunt. "What now?" he snapped.

At this, Harry felt a frown crease his face. He thought Dudley had been over the withdrawal? Wasn't he supposed to act more like himself now? The Dudley he knew was never a morning person... his eyes would have been half- closed, not alert and searching like this Dudley. Or perhaps the withdrawal took a longer time, and this was a perfectly normal scenario in a drug addict's case?

"We need to get you back to Privet Drive," Harry replied instead, standing slowly and painfully on his feet. "Cain and his gang have probably been caught by now. We need to see if it's safe yet, anyhow, so I propose we get ourselves a newspaper."

Dudley stood up, much quicker than Harry expected and shrugged, as though to get more feeling back into his shoulder muscles. "I'll get it," he said, without so much as a glance at Harry, "you wait here and sort out the papers when I get back."

"Wha-?" Harry was so surprised, he never managed to say even one short- syllable word before his cousin promptly walked out of the alley, into the main street.

Something was definitely wrong with Dudley.

But at that moment, there were so many _wrong _things that Harry didn't feel like paying any attention to his cousin's weird actions- his mind merely revolved around his plans, scenarios, and his life on the run.

xXx

Harry was still pondering on whether he should try to Apparate to the Burrows for help when he heard a long, piercing scream at the far end of the road. Somehow, the scream sent shivers up his spine, and the cold wind that buffeted him did not help one bit.

What had happened? Was it another regular snatchtheft, or a mugger? Or perhaps- the thought chilled him to the very bone- had someone witnessed the Apparition of the Ministry Aurors? Had they arrived here to track him as well?

Feeling agitated, Harry stood up and began to pace, noting with some satisfaction as the rats cowered before his much taller figure, and scurried quickly away into their hiding holes at his approach. It had been barely three minutes since Dudley had left, but he couldn't quite shake off the feeling that something else was _wrong, _once again. Perhaps it was the eerieness of the silence in the alley, as he paced back and forth, alone with his forbidding thoughts-

"I've got it!"

Harry whirled around as he watched Dudley, face flushed red with something akin to triumph, jog towards him, his hand outstretched towards Harry as he handed him that day's paper. Immediately, Harry's eyes narrowed.

"You didn't by any chance rob someone of their newspaper, did you?" he accused.

Dudley shrugged, his smirk lingering somewhere between the terrority of familiarity and the latter. "Nobody was hurt," he said.

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Well, she just screamed a bit," Dudley admitted, before shrugging once more. "My ears hurt more than her heart did. Just go on and read the paper, will you? I'm returning as soon as possible."

With that, he suddenly became all hunched up and grouchy. Harry watched with still- raised eyebrows as Dudley went to the opposite end of the alley, where he had slept the night yesterday, and sat down by the pipes once more. Harry noted that his cousin's hands were drew into fists, and his knuckles were white... but that could be just because of the cold.

Harry didn't like the means in which his cousin obtained the newspaper, but he did not have much choice. Flipping open The Times casually, his eyes quickly glanced through all the smaller articles under the _Local News _column.

To his relief, he found the article quickly enough, and it turned out to be a medium- sized article at that. There was even a picture of Privet Drive, with its glass windows shattered, the pieces strewn forlornly over the lawns Harry had worked so hard to keep neat.

But as his eyes travelled through the words, he felt an icy fist clench his ribcage, tightly, so much he found it difficult to breathe.

_...Dursley's son, Dudley Dursley, was believed to have stabbed his father deliberately when his father refused to give him money, despite his mother's vehement yet unconvincing denials. The gang, including Dudley Dursley, had then fled at the arrival of the police force..._

_...the boy murderer is as of yet nowhere to be found, eye- witnesses say that his cousin, who was living with them, had fled, taking Dudley with him, before the police arrived. Dursley's cousin was suspected to be involved in said gang as well, and the suspicion was later confirmed when one of the convicted gang members admitted to that statement. _

_...Vernon Dursley is currently receiving emergency treatment at the General Hospital, while Mrs. Dursley seems to be experiencing unstable mental conditions due to the shocking trauma she just received... she is currently treated, also, at the General Hospital-_

It was worse than what he had expected.

How could this have happened?!

Now, not only he was on the run from Ministry Aurors and Death- Eaters, the Muggle police force wanted his head as well!

This just got better and better.

"Dudley," he said tightly, not bothering to glance up from his papers. "We're not returning to Privet Drive anymore."

* * *

It was astounding how his cousin could simply dismiss the importance of his news and opt for breakfast instead. Harry had noticed Dudley's jaw clench, tight, as he explained the article, but that was the extent of it. The next thing Dudley had said was that they'd better find themselves a decent breakfast, before they both froze to death in the stinky alley.

Harry wasn't sure how they were supposed to get a breakfast, let alone a decent one, with them both technically being convicts- on the run, but the thought didn't seem to bother his cousin one bit. He supposed one thing never changed about his cousin, be it drugs or not- Dudley still held the importance of his full stomach in a pretty high regard.

Harry had been dragging his cousin all the way through the back alleys of Clemenceau Ave yesterday night, but today proved vastly different. Dudley seemed to be surging with energy, and he practically jogged up and down the streets lightly, as though it were the easiest feat in the world. This coming from a once obese boy with zero stamina whatsoever was nothing short of shocking, if not alarming. Harry thought it was the effect of the drugs, but he didn't understand one thing- how could it have lasted overnight? Not to mention the effects had wore off _before _Dudley left Privet Drive.

"Keep up, will you!" Dudley said roughly, thumping Harry hard on the shoulder to emphasise the point. "It's getting light."

Harry was about snap back a retort when he noticed the last statement, or more importantly, the implication of the last statement.

"What does the sky colour have to do with our breakfast?" he said suspiciously. "Surely you are not suggesting we rob a shop or something-"

"Fine, we'll just steal it," Dudley snapped back. "Just keep up."

Harry could barely speak out of burning indignance. "_Excuse me? Just steal it?"_

Dudley raised an eyebrow as Harry tried his best to keep up. His cold, numb legs still proved to be uncooperative, and Dudley had a thick warm jacket around him while his was flimsy and holey. "Would you like to mug someone else instead?" he merely said.

With a jolt of horror, Harry realized that Dudley was not joking. "No!" he protested, vehemently. "No, Dudley, we are not going to steal, rob or mug anybody-"

"Blackmail, eh?" Dudley said, his eyes still roving around the street, as though searching for a potential prey. "Hm, not a bad idea."

"Nothing demoralizing!" Harry insisted, trying to keep up with his cousin. Everything seemed to becoming more and more bizarre by the moment. He was trying to _keep up _with Dudley?!

Dudley actually stopped in his tracks to give Harry an eye- roll. "That means nothing for breakfast. You don't have any money with you, right?"

Harry reached into his inner pocket, his fingers trailing across a few gold Galleons, Wizard coins. He couldn't afford to enter Gringotts, not when the Ministry was high on his trail. He couldn't even enter any wizarding territory.

"No," he said at last, regretfully. "I don't have any money with me."

Dudley smiled, and it wasn't a pleasant sight. "I thought so. Now, just follow me and do as I say."

xXx

Things got really bizarre. It felt like discovering the Wizarding world all over again; this seemed to be almost an unbelievable as when he had discovered he was a wizard seven years ago.

He was currently holding a greasy, spoilt frying pan which he had picked out from a rubbish dump, trying his best to look menacing.

This was Dudley's plan. His cousin would, by some means, lure a prey down the alley, and Harry would be waited at the end, round the corner. Harry was supposed to knock said person out and pilfer the victim's wallet, and hopefully they would get some breakfast as they resumed their run from the many authorities hot on their trail.

Harry never thought he'd agree to this. In fact, he hadn't. But he had been distracted by the prospect of breakfast, and his bewilderment at so many bizarre things happening all at once- Dudley taking charge, for instance, and the fact that they _working together to get some breakfast- _that Harry had barely managed to voice his disagreement when Dudley had left. With a threat called over his shoulder if Harry failed to get them breakfast in the end.

Harry did not like how things were going. Indeed, he felt like ducking out into the next alley and forget this stupid plan his cousin had concocted. It wasn't right, either. He was a _Gryffindor! _He didn't knock out people for their money to have breakfast. He'd rather go hungry than actually-

An elderly man was striding down the alley, throwing furtive glances behind his back, beads of sweat glistening on his brow.

And behind him, Dudley was stalking the elder man, some distance away, but gaining in all the time.

Harry mentally groaned and ducked round the corner, clutching the frying pan determinedly. Perhaps if he just did it this... once. He would never ever do it ever again. Just for today's breakfast. He'd try to pay back the man sometime.

But how did you knock one out? With a frying pan? Did clamouring it over one's bald head do the trick? What if his blow wasn't hard enough? What if he missed? What if he hit too hard and- oh crumbs.

The old man had turned round the corner and stopped, looking at him suspiciously.

There went the element of surprise.

Harry tried for a grin, but it was all forced and _wrong _on his face. "Good morning sir," he began uncomfortably, trying his best to look sincere and polite. "I was just wondering if I-"

The next moment, the frying pan was snatched out of his hands. He didn't even have time to cry out.

There was a loud _clang! _that reverberated all around the alley, and Harry sank to his knees in darkness.

* * *

Harry came to with Dudley standing over him, looking extremely exasperated.

"You are the worst partner I've ever had to work with," his cousin ranted, looking extremely annoyed at their failure. "You had the element of surprise, you were _armed, _you are decades younger than that old sack of bones. Yet he gets the better of you."

Harry rubbed his head ruefully, where a painful bump was beginning to form. "That hurt a lot," he remarked soberly. "And what do you mean I was armed? With a frying pan, you mean?"

Dudley rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You are completely useless," he said again. "And what did I tell you about the element of surprise? You were supposed to strike while he was turning round the corner!"

"I did try to work up the nerve!" Harry said defensively, but Dudley was having none of it.

"Instead, you go up to him like a complete _girl _and say _'Good morning sir, I was wondering if I could somehow have some breakfast for free? Please pity me, oh do'_ !" Dudley said this with complete exaggerations.

"I never said that," Harry snapped, but just then his ears started to ring, and his head gave another painful throb. Harry felt blood rush from his head as he tried to stand, and nausea bubbled in the pit of his stomach.

"I don't think I want any breakfast anymore," he moaned.

Dudley rolled his eyes once more, before turning to leave. "Leave it there, then," he said, before turning to walk away.

For a moment, Harry wondered what 'it' was, before noting with a lot of surprise and a small touch of gratitude as he saw the little breadstick tucked into his jacket sleeve.

**A/N: All this was written and typed in less than two hours, so forgive any mistakes or if my writing didn't flow too well. I hope you enjoyed the story! Please do tell me what you think about it!**

**Rating system for those lazy to review:**

**':D' for awesome**

**'.' for lovely**

**'O' for okay**

**'X' for terrible.**

**Thanks so much!**

**P.S: If you don't mind, please do check out my newest Harry Potter one- shot, titled **Before the Rain. **It's about Tom Riddle Sr. meeting his son at a bus stop unexpectedly... and the story goes on from there. I spent much time working in the imagery and adding multiple layers to their personalties and conversations etc, so here's hoping you would tell me what you think about it. Please? :D**

**Lastly, to all Malaysians: Happy National Day!**

**Epsilon Scorpii**


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